HE boarded the boat at a landing about a hundred miles above Vicksburg, having two dilapidated but bulky-looking satchels as luggage. He said he was bound to “Orleans,” and when the clerk told him what the fare would be he uttered a long whistle of amazement, and inquired—

“Isn’t that pooty steep?”

“Regular figure, sir,” replied the clerk.

“Seems like a big price for just riding on a boat,” continued the stranger.

“Come, I’m in a hurry,” said the clerk.

“That’s the lowest figure, eh?” inquired the stranger.

“Yes—that’s the regular fare.”

“No discount to a regular traveller?”

“We make no discount from that figure.”

“Ye wouldn’t take half of it in trade?”

“I want your fare at once, or we will have to land you!”

“Don’t want a nice rat-trap, do ye, stranger?” inquired the passenger. “One which sets herself, works on scientific principles, allus ready, painted a nice green, wanted by every family, warranted to knock the socks off’n any other trap ever invented by mortal man?”

“No, sir; I want the money!” replied the clerk in emphatic tones.

“Oh, wall, I’ll pay; of course I will,” said the rat-trap man; “but that’s an awful figger for a ride to Orleans, and cash is cash these days.”

He counted out the fare in ragged shin-plasters, wound a shoe-string around his wallet and replaced it, and then unlocked one of the satchels and took out a wire rat-trap. Proceeding to the cabin, he looked the ground over, and then waltzing up to a young lady who sat on a sofa reading, he began—

“I take great pleasure in presenting to your attention the Eureky rat-trap, the best trap ever invented. It sets——”

“Sir!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet.

“Name’s Harrington Baker,” he went on, turning the trap around on his outstretched hand, “and I guarantee this trap to do more square killing among rats than——”

She gave him a look of scorn and contempt, and swept grandly away; and without being the least put out he walked over to a bald-headed man who had tilted his chair back and fallen asleep.

“Fellow-mortal, awakest and gaze upon the Eureky rat-trap,” said the stranger, as he laid his hand on the shiny pate of the sleeper.

“Wh—who—what!” exclaimed the Bald-head, opening his eyes and flinging his arms around.

“I take this opportunity to call your attention to my Eureky rat-trap,” continued the new passenger; “the noblest Roman of them all. Try one, and you will use no other. It is constructed on——”

“Who in thunder do you take me for?” exclaimed the bald-headed man at this point. “What in blazes do I want of your rat-trap?”

“To ketch rats!” humbly replied the stranger; “to clear yer premises of one of the most obnoxious pests known to man. I believe I am safe in saying that this ’ere——”

“Go away, sir—go away; or I’ll knock your blamed head off!” roared the Bald-head. “When I want a rat-trap I shan’t patronise travelling vagabonds! Your audacity in daring to put your hand on my head and wake me up deserves a caning!”

“Then you don’t want a rat-trap?”

“No, SIR!” yelled Bald-head.

“I’ll make you one mighty cheap.”

“I’ll knock you down, sir!” roared Bald-head, looking around for his cane.

“Oh, wall, I ain’t a starvin’, and it won’t make much difference if I don’t sell to you!” remarked the stranger, and he backed off and left the cabin for the promenade deck.

An old maid sat in the shadow of the Texas, embroidering a slipper, and the rat-trap man drew a stool up beside her and remarked—

“Madam, my name is Baker, and I am the inventor of the Eureky rat-trap, a sample copy of which I hold here on my left hand, and I think I can safely say that——”

“Sir, this is unpardonable!” she exclaimed, pushing back.

“I didn’t have an introduction to ye, of course,” he replied, holding the trap up higher: “but business is business, you know. Let me sell you a Eureky trap, and make ye happy for life; I warrant this trap to——”

“Sir, I shall call the captain!” she interrupted, turning pale with rage.

“Does he want a trap?” eagerly inquired the man.

“Such impudence deserves the horsewhip!” screamed the old maid, backing away.

The rat-trap man went forward and found a northern invalid, who was so far gone that he could hardly speak above a whisper.

“Ailing, eh?” queried the trapper.

The invalid nodded.

“Wall, I won’t say that my Eureky rat-trap will cure ye,” continued the man; “but this much I do say, and will swear to on a million Bibles, that it climbs the ridge-pole over any immortal vermin-booster ever yet set before——”

The captain came up at this juncture, and informed the inventor that he must quit annoying passengers.

“But some of ’em may want one o’ my Eureky traps,” protested the man.

“Can’t help it; this is no place to sell traps.”

“But this is no scrub trap—none o’ your humbugs, got up to swindle the hair right off of an innocent and confiding public.”

“You hear me—put that trap up!”

“I’ll put it up, of course; but then I’ll leave it to yerself if it isn’t rather Shylocky in a steamboat to charge me the reg’lar figger to Orleans, and then stop me from passing my Eureky rat-trap out to the hankerin’ public?”